Steel Wings
by faeirex
Summary: At the age of 3, Ilaria was taken to be trained in the arts of Shang. At fifteen, expelled again from the only world she can remember. Taken to Tortall, it falls to Alanna to teach her that sometimes to really live, you have to leave your life behind.
1. Steel

Disclaimer: I don't own this realm, or the people in it. I only want to have to say this once, and we'll just assume that in the duration of this story I will not suddenly become the possessor of Tamora Pierce's copyright and legacy. If I do, I will be sure to let you know. 

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Authors Note: Well, after much nagging from a certain person, I have finally begun writing a fanfic. Getting even this far has been a struggle, so please bear with me. In the past few months, probably quite irrationally, I have developed a sudden loathing of anything remotely resembling a Mary-Sue. This presents several problems when trying to write in a Tamora Pierce world because as I belatedly realised, not only are all her main characters female, but there is an element of perfection about all of them. Especially Daine. Trying to keep within the bounds of her stories but not come up with supergirl suddenly becomes much harder. Mary-Sues are beautiful, witty, talented and intelligent. Sadly, as polkat so helpfully pointed out to me, do away with too many of these qualities and you just come up with a boring character nobody wants to read about. There's a fine line in between and I'm paranoid about crossing it, so and Mary-Sue tendencies that develop I'd be grateful if you could point them out and I can attempt to eradicate them.

**I chose to write about the Shang culture because not much is really known about it, so there's plenty of scope for a story without having to tread paths traveled many times before. It does mean I've had to make a lot of things up – if I accidentally write something flatly against what Tamora Pierce has already written, I apologise. I'll try to keep it true to what she originally wanted. Which leads to another question – what do the Shang actually _do?_ Anyone who can provide an answer to this I will love forever. (You may have noticed we settled on Shang as being like sheep – the plural is the same as the singular. Is this right?)**

Reviews would be much appreciated. One small pet hate though – please NOBODY write a review containing the dreaded words 'nice effort', 'has potential' or similar. It's just too patronising to be true. If you think it should be better, tell me. Please. If everybody who reads this suggests one different thing that they would change to make it better, right down to correcting a single spelling error or suggesting an alternative line of dialogue to one that sounds wooden, the story wil improve much faster, and far more satisfactorily, than if you sit around and say it has 'potential'. Help me live up to it. That's all I ask. 

Waffle over, well done to anybody who managed to reach the end. Enjoy reading!

1: Steel

"If you would only reconsider…"

"I have already reconsidered a thousand times."

"But…" The speaker's voice was cut off by the stern façade in front of him, unmoving from its ruling.

"The decision is final. Shang has never accepted those with the mage-gift, and we will not start to do so now. There can be no exceptions." The Shang Eagle broke off to study the paperwork in front of him briefly; it seemed Matthias had moved south. Time was running out on him. He ran a hand through his sparse hair and frowned, glancing around the cluttered office that was full of urgent paperwork, urgent matters; full of everything, in fact, but time to do _anything_ in. And now this. "You know as well as I that we cannot afford a repeat of the Matthias fiasco, that knot will be hard enough to untangle already without these extra complications. I may not agree with their decision but I simply cannot allow someone in possession of the training that she has been given to wander the streets unchecked - one renegade Shang is more than enough for my scouts to deal with. And from what I have heard of the girl, I doubt that she possesses enough control to be considered safe on her own."

"She can be!" Riane protested stubbornly. "I have had the training of her and I promise you that, in the right hands, she will not be a danger. Vaughn, you must realise that I cannot allow you to have my pupil killed simply because she is marginally magically Gifted!"

"A fact she has hidden from us until now. You know why we have never allowed those with the Gift to train, Riane. Anything that provides a distraction from our way of life, and sways her commitment to us, makes her a danger to herself and others. Yesterday should have been enough to prove that to you."

"How long have we been friends Vaughn? Can't you trust my judgement just this once? There are other alternatives."

"Then I dearly wish that you would provide one. She cannot go back to her family that is for certain. But the others will not allow her to remain here, and I don't have the authority to contest that. This places us in something of a quandary." He broke the eye contact uneasily and looked back down at the maps beneath his hands. "I'm sorry but I don't see what more I can do. I've spoken to the other masters on your behalf, but we do not have the time to deal with this right now. Matthias poses a far greater problem to us at the moment, and I'm afraid it's he that has to command most of my attention right now."

By the gods, the man could be stuffy sometimes! Not that he was wrong of course. All warriors were weapons, of greater or lesser quality, but a Shang Warrior was the best – a sword perhaps, of the finest steel. But no matter how good the material, how strong the make, the steel must be tempered before it could be used, to give it both strength and flexibility. Put the fire out too early, and the weapon would simply become brittle and snap, and a broken sword was no good to anyone. Still, he couldn't allow himself to consign her a lost cause. 

"I could take her to Tortall." One last, desperate effort. "They do not have the same…attitude to female warriors there that other states do. They will even allow girls to train as knights. Maybe there…"

The Eagle laughed grimly and finished the sentence for him "Maybe there she can train as a knight? Some nobility, a child whose family gave her to us to be brought up as a commoner, rather than have to pay the price of a dowry. And, if I may remind you, assured us that she was not Gifted. A fine prize for King Jonathan indeed."

"You must be either jesting or temporarily insane to think I would suggest that. Maybe all this furore over Matthias has addled your wits. I suspect Ilaria would make as good a knight as I would a pig farmer, and well you know it." He was not entirely joking.

"Then what are you suggesting? That you wish to go into the agricultural trade?"

"I'm suggesting that perhaps a more open society will be able to understand her better than we can. If they will take her in, and continue her training, maybe there will be no need for your _civilized decision_."

Vaughn Stonesun, the Shang Eagle, master of the Shang cult, sighed. "I'm a warrior, not a beaurocrat, and I confess I dislike these rules as much as you. But they must be upheld, or what do we have left?" He eyed Riane speculatively. The man's jaw was set, he not leave until he got his way. Stoneson exhaled slowly and made up his mind. It would not go well for him when the other masters found out but it was worth this night's sleep. "Very well. Take her to Tortall. She may have three months to prove herself, and to start again w_ithout _younannying her. I know you, Riane Kinswood. She is no longer Shang and you have no bond any more. Do not allow your affections for the girl to cloud your judgement. We shall see her again after that time has lapsed, and come to a decision." He smiled wryly. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," he drawled, grinning. "I knew I could count on you Vaughn."

The Eagle wiped the smile from his face as quickly as it had appeared. "If I were I you, I would leave quickly. It is entirely probable the other masters will seek to change my decision once I have left tomorrow. I'm going after Matthias myself, may the black god take the man. Remember your vows, my friend. Maybe this is not the best course of action. This is your way of life too and when the time comes and push comes to shove you may have to make a decision: the girl or Shang. Could _you _live without it? It might be best to put her out of her misery."

The Shang Hound bowed his head. "I understand, even if I wish I didn't. All I can do is try." Straightening, he stood and departed hurriedly in a flurry of angry robes and a short goodbye. Stonesun's voice followed him. 

"I have given her a chance Riane. I pray that I will not regret it."


	2. Butterfly

A casual onlooker, on observing the girl waiting by the door of Jonathan of Conte's office, might have been forgiven for noticing nothing out of the ordinary about her. Certainly, the golden hint to her skin and the slight slant of her eyes suggested an eastern origin, but in Tortall one could expect to see those of all races – Bazhir, Yamani, Carthaki and K'mir mixed freely with the paler natives. Trousers too were not unusual; those in the Queen's Riders were accustomed to the more practical garb, so another figure waiting to see the king would have drawn no second glances.

Those who _had _looked again however might have found more than a little to generate curiosity, though not from what she was doing. More, perhaps, from what she was not doing. There was a strange stillness about her, a silence that rippled outward. Not a stillness simply for the sake of being still, but the stillness of someone for whom movement was not currently important, the stillness of someone who is completely focused on what is going on inside themselves rather than outside.

The innermost matters that Ilaria was currently considering centered almost entirely around what might be going on on the other side of the door, and by extension what was going to happen to her. Naturally, nobody had suggested asking herwhat she wanted but then, Riane at least had known perfectly well what that was with asking. 

Thinking about Riane Kinswood, and all that he symbolised, created a hard knot of misery deep in her stomach that she hastened to push away again. Though he hadn't said as much, the dreadful finality of the journey that had brought them here had said the words for him – He would be going away, and leaving her here. In a strange land, amidst strange people the like of which she had never encountered before, with strange customs she did not understand. Perhaps in any other circumstances she would have been delighted to be here, experiencing this. Not now though. Not if to be here, she had to give up everything else.

A dark haired woman passed by, sparing her an interested glance. Stubbornness forbade Ilaria to return the gesture, but did not stop her taking advantage of the opportunities the advent of a new stranger presented. She flicked her eyes sideways quickly, then casually extended one slim finger sideways just far enough to halt the swing of the door as it returned to its original position – the only movement she had made in nearly fifteen minutes of waiting. Riane probably wouldn't have approved but a little eavesdropping was sometimes necessary, especially in a situation such as this. Voices filtered through the small crack where the solid wood didn't quite meet the wall.

"…Ah Buri, there you are." The voice was a man's, smooth, cultured, unfamiliar. "We were just discussing Alanna's new charge."

"Jon! Stop it!" An irritated woman cut him off. "I hadn't agreed yet, and I wasn't planning to. I don't have time for another pupil right now. There's things I need to do."

"Like what?"

"I wanted to spend some time with Thom, and there's paperwork that needs to be done for Trebond, and raiding parties coming down from Scanra that I should be dealing with personally, and…"

"And ogres to battle, nobles to be chastened and pigs to be trained to fly?" the man finished for her. "Thom is here right now and going nowhere, you hate paperwork; George can do it equally well if not more competently than you can, and there are perfectly accomplished knights already dealing with everything that needs to be dealt with. You have nothing better to do right now. You'll say yes sooner or later, and I'm starting to get the feeling that you're only disagreeing for the sake of disagreeing. Why not just give in gracefully for once and save face? Three months, that's all." From the tone of his voice, it was clear he considered the matter already resolved. The sound of his opponent starting another tirade of oppositions was halted by the calm tones of a second woman, sounding amused.

"Maybe someone could fill me in on what's going on here?"

"Of course, Buri. This is Riane Kinswood, the Shang Hound. He's hoping we, or rather Alanna, can help him in the matter of a certain young stray currently in his care."

"The girl outside? I wondered about her – far too quiet to be one of my lot. But I thought the Shang handled their own problems – why bring her here?

Riane cleared his throat. Mentally, she pictured his slightly shamefaced look. "I'm afraid Ilaria is slightly different. Her particular problem the Shang will _not _handle, which is why I've been forced to bring her here. You see, Ilaria is Gifted."

"And so they have thrown her out, and expect me to pick up the pieces," the woman she had begun to recognise as Alanna added angrily. "You make such a show of accepting people of all races and all classes, yet you discriminate against her for something equally outside her control. The Gift is just that – a gift, not a _problem_."

Riane ignored her outrage. "Possibly, but we have our reasons. I believe that you are considered one of the foremost experts on our culture outside of the order itself, so you should be entirely aware of them. We believe…"

Ilaria stopped listening, she had heard this too many times on the way here. Riane's repeated justification had made the verdict no easier to bear, and only inspired new loathing of a part of her she had no means of changing. The outcome of their debate seemed a foregone conclusion anyway. The man, the one with the calm, imperious voice was going to win. Here she was and here she would stay, whether Alanna liked it or not. Her eyes widened as her mind suddenly kicked in and realised who she must be. Alanna the Lioness!

The name was a familiar one. Legends of the fabled King's Champion travelled as far as those who spoke the common tongue, further in many places. Strange, that she should have had to struggle so hard to achieve her dream because those in power believed that because she was a woman, she shouldn't. And now she herself was in a similar situation, only this time the issue was not her gender. At least Alanna had managed to receive her shield before she was discovered, and been allowed to keep it. For Ilaria there would be no such chance.

__

And now it is in Alanna's hands that I am to be placed. The gods have a strange sense of humour.

What would it be like, she wondered? From what she had heard so far, rumours of the Lioness's temper were not unfounded. The contrast to even-tempered, patient Riane could not be more absolute, or more unwelcome. Her right ankle throbbed painfully; reminding her that after long hours in the saddle her body was tired and would like to rest. For a moment, she considered relaxing her rigid posture in the chair she had been given and sitting more comfortably. Just a moment though – Shang didn't give in, she reminded herself. She _was _Shang, to the bone. No giving in.

The argument inside appeared to be coming to an end. Grudgingly the woman gave up ground, while still trying to find excuses.

"I'm agreeing to nothing until I know more about her. The gods know Nealan was enough to tire my bones. What's her history?"

Riane responded formally, and wearily. From his tone, she got the impression he had recited the same information several times before. "Ilaria was chosen to receive training by us at the age of three, and has been in our guardianship ever since. She is not, perhaps, exceptional, but she displays a natural affinity for combat and even if she lacks the integral strength and force needed to rise to the highest ranks, I would have expected her to do well. Physically, I would think she could just about pass her final tests and be Named now. It is mentally that she needs to mature, as do all pupils of her age. I have been her teacher for nearly six years now, but I have always suspected there was a small part of her that was not entirely committed to us and, until that was rectified, I would not have allowed her to progress. Now that is not an option I will need to consider. I was hoping that you could continue her teaching. She doesn't yet understand that it is not enough to have ability; you must be still inside to achieve precision and control on the out."

There was a pause. "There's very little I can teach her about fighting, Riane."

"You don't need to. Teach her to adapt, and cope with your world. Teach her _mind_ – that we have not done."

Another pause, presumably as the Lioness ran out of arguments. Then a sigh, admitting defeat. "Bring her in." 

Ilaria let the door gently swing the last inch or so shut at the sound of footsteps. Riane beckoned her in, but halted her for a moment with a hand on her shoulder. "Eavesdropping is a bad habit," he rebuked her in a murmur too low for the others to catch.

"Educational though," she retorted, not for one moment believing in the reprimand. "So how much of that was I _supposed _to hear?"

He grinned. "Alright, so you know me at least as well as I know you. Try to take heed okay? Don't make me ashamed of you."

"Because being officially rejected by everyone I ever wanted to be isn't bad enough?" she asked him flatly, dispelling his attempts at normalcy. There was hurt in his eyes for a moment before he released her for inspection by the others. 

"I have never been ashamed of you Ilaria. Disappointed maybe, but never ashamed," he said quietly to the back of her head. 

The King's Champion looked her over with interest, earlier irritation miraculously vanished. Even though she had heard tales of her, the first sight of the flame-haired, violet-eyed Lady Knight was a shock. She wasn't as tall as she'd expected but sheer force of personality seemed to lend her added height so that, although in inches they were roughly the same, Ilaria felt overshadowed. "So you're to be my new charge," she stated dryly. "How old are you girl?"

"I don't know." The question had never come up before – ability, rather than age, had always been considered more important. Just how different her culture really was from this one began to strike home with a vengeance, reminding her loudly that she had no more place here than anywhere else, no matter what hopes Riane may have cherished.

"You don't...?" Alanna exclaimed loudly. At Ilaria's nervous half step backward she subsided with a flippant wave of her hand. "Stand still, I won't bite."

"She's nearly sixteen," Riane supplied

"Old enough then," said Alanna thoughtfully, with a meaningful glance at the raven-haired woman watching them calmly. She raised one dark eyebrow questioningly.

"Riders?" 

The fourth occupant of the room, a very handsome man with vividly blue eyes framed by black hair, nodded at her thoughtfully. "Can you ride a horse? Read and write?"

"I can ride any horse you'd care me to sir," she said more confidently, "But the others – no."

"Maybe not then," he smiled dazzlingly. "Nice try Alanna, but it won't work."

The look she gave him flashed fire. "We'll have to teach you then," she said briskly, beginning to fire information without a pause in between to breathe. "Are you a quick learner? Wait don't answer that – they wouldn't have chosen you if you weren't bright. Here's the deal – I have a temper, but do as you're told and we won't have any problems. I'll get you a room by mine and you can take study-classes with the pages, but apart from that you're answerable to me. My name as you must have guessed while listening through the door is Alanna, this is Buri – she commands the Queen's Riders – and the gentleman smirking over in the corner is King Jonathan. You'll meet them properly later. Any questions?"

"No." Should she bow to the King now, she wondered, or was it too late?

"I should go…" Riane. Trying to get away quietly now whilst she was still acquiescent. The feeling of total isolation increased, and it was without a smile that she gave him a brief "Goodbye". He looked at her with understanding. "I know this isn't what you wanted, but please give it a chance."

It didn't take long for her to repent; punishing him had gone far enough, and she didn't want him to leave thinking it was himshe was angry with. With an effort, she conjured him a smile. She was rewarded with a flash of his normally ever-present grin, and some rather undignified ruffling of her smooth black hair. "See you soon butterfly."

Alanna's brows raised in amusement. "Butterfly?"

"Wait till you see her dance."


	3. Stone

Her new room was large – larger in fact than any she had ever had before, and bright. Sparsely furnished, but clean, comfortable, and well cared for in every way. It also smelt strongly of boy.

"I'm sorry," Alanna said wryly, pulling a face, "my squire was the last person to use it. She gestured at the desk. "He did his best but he's managed to leave his mark all the same."

Now she looked closer, it was possible to see ink smudges, burn marks and waxy trails on the polished wood. She scanned the rest of the room for other traces of the previous occupant – a dent in the bottom of the door where it had frequently met with a hasty boot, nicks in smooth surfaces where a weapon of some sort had been swung erratically, worn patches on a rug walked over too often.

"The servants have done their best to clean it of course but somehow the scent of a person _will _insist on remaining long after they've left," the Lioness continued with good humour as if chiding the man himself rather than the faint trace of him left behind. "Once Neal's wormed his way in somewhere, he won't leave it easily." She looked sideways at Ilaria. "I can try having it aired if you'd like."

Ilaria, who had already decided to volunteer no more information than she could help before she knew more about her new situation, remained laconic. "It doesn't matter." It didn't; the odour was pervasive but not particularly unpleasant. She dropped her pack on the floor with a thud and crossed to one of the windows to scan the seeming hordes of people below. 

"So many," Alanna commented from the doorway, still attempting to start a conversation, "just going about their business unaware that we watch them." The hairs on the back of Ilaria's neck prickled, feeling the violet eyes move from the window to their new pupil. "You'll soon get used to them though."

Privately Ilaria was sure she wouldn't, but she didn't say so. Concern in the outside scene lost she continued to gaze about disinterestedly, unwilling to turn back and face the startling clarity of that gaze.. The atmosphere grew restive, muttering darkly about silence being the virtue of fools. She wasn't sure where she had heard that, or why it had come to mind at this particular moment, but the thought was quickly suppressed in favour the more flattering ideal of Shang; _in silence the soul finds the path in a clearer light. _It was fanciful perhaps, but Ilaria was fully aware that she lacked the humility to willingly call herself a fool, however close to the truth it might be.

Growing impatient, Alanna cast her eyes about the room and motioned Ilaria's pack still lying in the centre of the room. "Do you mind?" Ilaria tore her gaze from the world outside and gave assent with a shake of her head, watching the woman's grimace as she felt its weight. "You know, you must be stronger than you look. I wouldn't want to carry this."

Now that she was no longer being observed, Ilaria permitted herself a small smile. Alanna would never know of the hours Riane had spent making her train with weighted weapons and weights around her limbs in order to strengthen her body. Built on a light frame, she was denied the stocky body and powerful muscles that made a true warrior and her teachers had sought other ways to increase the effectiveness of her natural abilities to their best advantage. The result was a slim, lean figure with highly toned muscles that relied more on speed and power of impact than a greater strength. The Shang had done well. Even though the pack had still been hard to carry, the important thing was that it hadn't showed.

Alanna's head was bent over its contents, and so Ilaria felt free to study her carefully, watching the curious furrowing of her brows and the quick, deft movements of her calloused hands as she drew out a small bundle of hastily screwed up clothing with a smile. "Commendable respect for your belongings I see." She peered in again and reverently drew out three long cloth wrapped bundles, probing them delicately. "It's rude to stare you know," she murmured absently without looking up.

"Do you ever take your own advice, I wonder?" Ilaria muttered under her breath remembering her own inspection earlier, and regretting it immediately when Alanna looked up sharply. She didn't know what attitude they took here in Tortall, but if she'd been that disrespectful to any of the Shang masters, she'd have been severely punished. Riane might not have minded but then, he'd had a sense of humour. The famed temper of the Lioness could be a different matter entirely.

Luckily, Alanna's expression quickly became one of sardonic amusement. "So you can talk of your own accord after all. I was beginning to think they'd trained you be a statue." Her smile disappeared at Ilaria's uncertain expression and she spoke bluntly. "Now don't tell me you're going to lapse into that sullen silence again. Sulking and answering me in monosyllables isn't going to get you anywhere, and it only makes you look childish. You're far too old to be playing such stupid games."

Ilaria was torn. It would have been easy for her claim she didn't speak because she was shy, or simply quiet, but the simple truth was just that she didn't really want to and was still thoughtless enough not to think about the possible consequences. She wanted to go home. Accepting this as her new life would be too much like giving up and letting go of that last fragile bit of hope she still clung to desperately and irrationally. All the same, Alanna's words still stung. It was hard to admit it, but one of the things her years of training had installed was a thin streak of arrogance that was protesting vehemently against the accusation of being childish. The rest of her, more pragmatic, simply acknowledged that keeping quiet out of pure stubbornness was ridiculous. And Riane had asked her not to make him ashamed of her.

"I'm sorry, milady," she managed rather inaccurately and deliberately vacuously, eyes lowered in apparent humility.

Alanna's eyebrows raised slowly until they almost reached her hairline. "What _possible_ purpose could you have for wishing to sound like a country bumpkin? More to the point, why could you possibly think I'd fall for it? I know you're not stupid Ilaria; I'd like to be able to think you believed the same of me."

Ilaria maintained her expression of wide-eyed innocence. Alanna sighed and began to count things off on her fingers. "I know you claim not to know so much as how old you are. I know you affect not to be able to read and write. And I know you are taking great care to try to prevent me seeing a single spark of personality about you. I _also _know that you were considered bright enough to be worthy of Shang training, that your teacher has enough confidence in your abilities to send you here in the hope that you will do well amongst us, and that you have plenty of wits about you when you think I'm not watching." She paused then added, "I also know you were able to conceal your magic for about 13 years, which I'm still wondering how you did. Is it worth me asking you, or will I just get another look trying to convince me you've come from some backwater somewhere and have never so much as heard a word longer than two syllables before?"

Ilaria blinked, realising ruefully that all she'd heard about the Lioness was true. Under her improbable exterior lurked a core of razor-sharp iron, too experienced to be fooled by a few misleading phrases or a deceptive appearance. She would be a captivating opponent whether with weapons or wits.

She was also though, she sensed reluctantly, someone it was a bad idea to get on the wrong side of. Smiling wryly, she shook her head. "Caught out," she paused, "Although just for the record, I really don't have any book-learning." The smile died quickly and she looked at Riane's replacement apprehensively.

"If it helps at all, I don't agree with what they're doing to you," Alanna said with sudden understanding.

Ilaria's eyes brightened with a flash of hope. "Then could you...would you…" she took a deep breath and continued more calmly. "Would you be able to take my Gift away from me?"

Alanna's eyes were dark with sympathy. "Come and sit down Ilaria." The girl complied and she continued gently. "Even if it were possible for me to take it away permanently, which I'm not sure it is, I wouldn't do it. Whether you like it or not, your Gift is a part of you. Taking it away would be like to amputate one of your limbs. You wouldn't be a whole person, and the loss would probably hamper you for the rest of your life. Even by ignoring it as you seem to have been doing, you've been hindering your own progress. You're not whole _inside, _and that affects everything else you do. I tried it once myself. The only way for you to learn to live your life is to accept that part of you and nurture it so that it can grow and become one with the rest of you. I'll teach you to use it but apart from that I'm sorry, there's nothing else I can do."

Ilaria's voice was low and too intense to be steady. "I don't want it. All I've ever wanted of it was for it to go away."

"It won't go away if you ignore it." Alanna reached out and touched her shoulder gently. "How did you hide it?"

Ilaria gained control of her voice with an effort and spoke clearly again. "I can't really remember back when I was small…I suppose my parents must have told them I wasn't Gifted, or they'd never have taken me. I've always known, somehow, that I had to keep it secret. Maybe they'd told me before I left. I'm not really sure how I managed to hide it back then – I was so young – but I remember that one of the first things they taught us as children was how to meditate. That helps, doesn't it? Even if I was angry and I could feel it shimmering in me and trying to break out, meditating used to pull it back in somehow. Nobody really noticed anything – but then they weren't looking for it and there was nobody Gifted about who might have sensed it, so I always thought I was safe."

At Alanna's nod, she realised that Riane must have explained the rest of the story to her already. She seemed remarkably matter-of-fact. "At least you already know how to meditate, that's something and the rest will come in time."

Protesting came automatically. "No!" Realising that a flat refusal was unlikely to be listened to she amended it to "Not now," and contented herself with a privately underscored "Not ever" in her mind.

Alanna looked at her for a long time. "Give it a few days," she said finally.

****

Author's Note:

I got told off by Polkat for not doing an a/n in the last chapter :$

The reason I tend not to put notes at the top of my work, except for the first chapter, is because I feel it interferes with the flow of the story. They can also contain spoilers which will give away what is to come, and it can be annoying to have to scroll past them if you don't want to read them as well. I guess my noted will have to end up at the bottom of the page all the time, where you can ignore them if you wish. ****

First of all thanks to everyone who reviewed me – I think I've managed to go review your work in return. I think I've also managed to be quite critical of it, so I apologise if I offended. I think the function of reviews on ff is so we can help each other improve our writing, and that's what I'm hoping to do for you. [grins] So far nobody's taking me up on my pleas for you to criticise me…

Please do though, I think it's worth it and I promise not to be offended by anything you say. Also, bubblegum*girl and indigo star, apparently all reviews submitted on June 4th have been accidentally deleted which is why yours haven't appeared. * sobs * Maybe I'm being greedy, but I feel cheated!

To everyone who's read this and simply not reviewed…what are you doing?!?? Surely the opportunity to poke fun at me is too good to pass up? Seriously though, I would really love as many reviews as possible [as well as improving my writing, they're good for my ego…;)] Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?

Thanks to Polkat and AlianneOfTortall (henceforth to be known as Alianne cos I don't wanna have to keep typing it out) for nagging me to keep writing, I'd be too lazy to do it without you. Super thanks to Polkat for being such a great beta-reader, and super apologies to Alianne for driving her insane. 

Finally, "Silence is the virtue of fools" – Sir Francis Bacon. "In the attitude of silence the soul finds the path in a clearer light" – Mahatma Gandhi. Don't ask me how Ilaria knows them, maybe they just conveniently found their way through from another dimension. Ah the plot holes…


	4. Temper

Ilaria woke to a cold daybreak and a feeling of peace. It was still dark outside, but with the faint lightening of the horizon that suggested dawn was not so very far away. She could not remember a time when she had not been awake to see the sun rise, and some things didn't change. 

It was only a few weeks to the Midwinter Solstice, and there was an iciness in the air that penetrated even through the thick bedclothes. She contemplated just lying there a while longer, but she knew that realistically she would only get colder and let a chill settle into her muscles that would linger uncomfortably for the rest of the day. Reluctantly she pushed back the covers and sat up, but didn't get out of the bed. Taking advantage of the quiet moments to reflect on yesterday's events, she drew her legs up to her chest and hugged them close to her in a vain attempt to preserve some residue of warmth and stared out of the window at the bleak sky, turning things over in her mind.

Uneducated Ilaria might be but she was not ignorant. Although reading and the more conventional lessons still remained merely an option for older students rather than being compulsory for all, Ilaria had been lucky in that both the Shang Hound and the Hare before him had been strong believers in teaching through experience. As a child Garra Westling had taught her to watch, to be alert, to listen and _remember_; when Riane had taken over her teaching he had made her put those skills to use throughout their travels in much of the Western continent. Garra had perhaps been _too_ successful; Ilaria had picked up information in much the same way that a cat picked up fleas: entirely indiscriminately.

Much of the journey here had been spent sulking and applying her mind to devising various schemes and plots for manipulating events to her advantage, only to have to discard them almost immediately. While it might be futile at least doing something, _anything_ at all was preferable to wallowing in misery that she had no hope of avoiding. The disruption to her plans would have been vexing, were it not for the other unexpected opportunities that had presented themselves. In Alanna she had found the one thing that she had not taken into consideration: sympathy.

This would never have happened in the Yamani Isles.

A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth – the crown prince here was married to a Yamani princess, wasn't he? She remembered a Yamani proverb that had been quoted at her once to check a particular bout of bad temper: '_ju yoku go o seisu; kunshi hyohen'. _As far as she could recall, it meant something like 'win by yielding, for the wise man changes his mind' Remarkably apt, giving the current situation. Yesterday, she had rebelled so strongly at that very thought; today, in a better temper and clearer mind, she had arrived at the same conclusion of her own accord. The irony of it was not lost on her.

Squaring it with her conscience was a little harder, especially when she was still young enough to be prone to melodrama. Even _thinking_ about changing her mind produced feelings of guilt at turning her back on Shang, however irrational when it was really theywho had turned their back on her. 'It's only for a few months', she told herself, with definite self-denial, 'and besides, it's not really that bad here. I can get through this.'

Watching the first pale rays of sunlight reaching tenderly upwards to wash over the landscape she smiled unconsciously, feeling more resolved and slipped out of bed determinedly, wincing when her bare feet made contact with the cold stone floor. Although by rights people should be about by now, no fire had been laid in the grate. There was a pair of crumpled leggings lying by the bed; she pulled them on under the loose shirt she had worn to bed and set to work rolling up the rug that covered part of the floor. It left a large bare space where she promptly set to work on some basic exercises, getting ready to move onto some more demanding footwork. If there was nobody here to supervise her training and make her seek to extend her skills, then she would just have to do it herself. While they could take away her right to a name, they couldn't take away who she was. She was Shang inside, in her blood, and that would remain whether they chose to accept her or not.

The loud, insistent ring of a bell distracted her mind in the middle of a complex maneuver, causing her to fumble the motion. Annoyed at herself, she gritted her teeth and repeated it stubbornly, losing herself again in the liquid feeling of just _being_. The second interruption, the door opening, jarred into her consciousness so suddenly she jumped in surprise and span round to meet the intruder with fists already clenched as if preparing for a fight.

"Oh good, you're up," Alanna said calmly. "The rest of us had dawn worship, but I didn't want to wake you; you looked like you needed rest last night." She glanced over at the empty fireplace and frowned. "When I told the servants not to disturb you, I didn't mean they shouldn't come in here _at all_. Are you cold?"

"Not any more," Ilaria assured her; the early exercise had banished any chill she'd been feeling before. 

Alanna shrugged, "Well I am. My old bones don't like the winters any more…they've finally caught up with the rest of me on that count." The fireplace glowed violet, settling to burn with a bright crackling flame. Ilaria tried to move away from it discreetly. "It warms just as well as if it were real," the Lioness pointed out with a slightly affronted air as she caught the movement, but she didn't bother to press the issue. Instead, she looked Ilaria over pointedly, eyes lingering on her rumpled hair and state of semi-dress. "Get yourself clothed properly and then you'd better come and eat."

Authors note:

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* guilty face * Yes I know, it's taken me forever to update. Had real problems with writing this chapter for some reason, so what you're reading is actually the fourth draft of the third attempt, or something like that. I originally planned to make it much longer, then realised I'm going on holiday on Monday so I'm running very low on time. Found a convenient stopping point and cut everything else.

Again, thankee to the reviewers. 'Specially Polkat for beta-ing and Alianne for making me keep writing. Yay, ppl think I've kept true to the original books! (that's what I was aiming for at least, only less Mary-Sue-ism.) I know Ilaria's had a bit of a personality shift this chapter, but Polkat was complaining she was boring and complained too much. Plot manipulation to lessen this ensues…just hope it's not too noticeable.

Indigo Star – my first real criticism! Hurrah! * calms down slightly * Ok, answers: A) Yes, all the chapters for this will be one worded I think. I know it's kinda abstract, but think back to your english classes and you'll probably find some deep and meaningful significance in them…maybe…kinda. For the record, the 'temper' that this chapter is referring to isn't emotion, but the process of heating steel to a high temperature to strengthen it. See, I _did _learn something in Tech. I don't understand what you said about 'opposite'. B) Plot holes? Noooooooooooooo! Where? Must correct them! C) Parentage doesn't matter. I promise there will be no 'oh my god, I've just discovered I'm the illegitimate daughter of Liam Ironarm/Raoul/Gary/Alex etc [insert canon character of choice] here. (unless I _really _run out of ideas ;)

And yeah, my grammar probably does have major faults. But I can't be bothered to go find them right now. If anyone gets really bored, or just annoyed by it, feel free to email me corrections. Then I'll post em up, and go find your story to obsessively nitpick :p Mwahahahahahaha…


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